SMACked Straight Back to You
by seriously.george
Summary: Tension is building between Mac and Stella, both in the lab and out in the field, and it's starting to take its toll. But when Stella's life is threatened, will her partner step up to the challenge? Chapter 3 up... Chap 4 coming soon! Rated M, for future.
1. Ego

_  
A thousand miles away, the sound of a shell hitting the tiles reverberated around Stella Bonasera's eardrums. The force of the_

bullet caused her to fall backwards, temporarily losing sight of her assailant. Fighting the urge to succumb to the hazy fog of

unconsciousness, Stella fought against the bonds that tied her to her own bed. Collapsing in a heap, she looked up one last time

to see the people that would end her life. _Her breath came short, her lungs burned for oxygen. This was the end. And she knew_

it. 

* * *

"Stella… go home!" Mac said softly, "You've been at this for almost 6 hours."

She attempted to give him a disapproving look, but only managed a watery grimace.

"Mac, I can-" Stella began. "You're right. Let's call it a day."

Stripping off her latex gloves, Stella returned her partner's order with a weary smile.

"This case," he said, "Isn't easy."

"I know. The blood found on the victim's jacket belongs to 7 different people. I just can't seem to-"

"That's not what I meant."

She stopped mid-sentence and looked questioningly at him.

"I can't even fathom what this case means for you. The victim, the sole woman who cared for you… goodness knows how

she did it… but nonetheless, you must feel… something… I can understand if you don't want to do this."

"St. Basil's Orphanage was a long time ago Mac. Margaret Chamberlain is just a ghost of my past. Nothing more."

Mac looked sadly at his partner's eyes and sensed a hidden grievance.

"Stella…" he said gently, "It's alright to mourn…"

"I'm fine." she snapped, perhaps a little too curtly.

"Stel, I only meant –"

"Mac. This is a case just like any other. I don't need to be told how to do my job."

And without a backward glance, Stella Bonasera left the lab, the tension in the room lingering long after she was gone.

* * *

Parking the car in her allotted parking space, Stella gingerly grabbed her belongings and headed towards the stairs. Each

step was an effort as her bones screamed from fatigue.

She didn't even notice the black four-wheel-drive parked in her visitor's space, or the suspicious figure huddled against the

cold near the fire escape.

Her thin woollen jumper wasn't enough to block out the sharp, penetrating gusts of wind ripping through her body; her

nose dribbled and her eyes stung with icy needles.

Although normally the second floor was only a hop, skip and a jump for the usually lively woman, Stella couldn't find the

energy today to even make it up the first flight of steps.

Turning from the stairwell, she made her way over to the lifts and waited for the 1970's style elevator to come to a grinding  
halt.

Waiting inside, humming tunelessly to the cheesy music, the lift screeched upwards at a snail pace, much to Stella's disdain.

Lost in wistful thoughts of hot showers and fluffy pillows, Stella was pulled from her reverie by a hard knock to her head, as  
she tumbled onto the hard linoleum.

Sitting up cursing, she wondered why the elevator had stopped, and more importantly, why the lights had flickered and

gone out.


	2. What's To Happen If?

"Mac

"Mac? It's me." Stella said into her mobile, as the battery was slowly dying.

She was glad that he hadn't taken that afternoon's comments to heart, as he replied with a jovial greeting.

"I'm stuck in my elevator."

She could hear him chuckle on the other end of the line, and imagined him shaking his head, just as her idiosyncratic Mac would.

"Look… I'm sorry about before. I know you were only trying to help." She said, smiling into the receiver.

"Stella… what would I do without you?" he said affectionately, "You know I wouldn't do this job if you weren't my right hand."

"Yeah… I know." She said softly, "Me too."

There was a slight pause as each party pondered over the other's sentiments. The silence was broken by Stella's exclamation of, "Oooh! The lights are back on… and, we're moving!"

She told her partner not to worry about coming out to check up on her. "I'm a big girl Mac…" she said, after his continuous pleas of confirmation that she would be OK.

Fumbling in her purse, Stella pulled out the set of keys for her apartment door. Sliding the key into the lock, she heard a peculiar noise from inside.

"_Bloody hell", she thought to herself, "If that goddamn TV turns on by itself one more time, it's going to the trash."_

Letting herself in, she made her way into the kitchen, seeking out a bag of Doritos and salsa dip. _"Comfort food", she thought, "Just what I need."_

Contenting herself with extra spicy corn chips, Stella padded back to the entrance to retrieve her gun. Before she could reach the hallway mirror however, she noticed an abrupt change in atmosphere and profound silence, almost as if her apartment was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

Her heart started to quicken and her pulse throbbed in her veins. She was becoming dizzy with adrenalin, uncharacteristic of her usual self.

Finding the courage to stumble to the front door table, she pushed back vomit at the sight of her empty holster.

With terror forcing her every move, Stella turned around, seeing flashbacks of an attack in this very same apartment from a person she thought she could trust. With the crippling pain of déjà vu, she saw two men and a woman, before a blunt object clouded her vision and sent her mind into oblivion.


	3. The Times We Never Had

He watched the light leave her eyes and felt the most profound heart-wrenching pain in his gut at seeing her so vulnerable and exposed to the world.

Mac had found Stella in her apartment after a call from the neighbours complaining about the noise.

He thought sadly how the incident had come to his attention. A 911 call from the woman next door, thinking that Stella and her boyfriend were at it again… "I mean, for goodness sake," the woman had said, "This is the third time today… and it's 1 o'clock in the afternoon!"

Although it pained him to see Stella so unhappy over the past few weeks, Mac knew that her recent, very public separation from her boyfriend could only be for the best. After all, it was more than once that he thought of himself lying in the sheets beside her, rather than that pathetic excuse for a partner.

Mac was glad that Bennet was out of his partner's life, and was all the too much concerned when the call came about Stella's apartment. He couldn't believe that his beloved Stella could be so stupid as to go back to a convicted paedophile.

Torn between his respect for her, and the need to see if she was ok, Mac deliberated over whether or not to check into her apartment block to suss things out. Her safety winning out over her right to a personal life with the so-called boyfriend, Mac took Lindsay around to pay a duty call.

"Stel…?" Mac said through the apartment door. "You there?"

There was no reply from inside, though the emergency call had come only half an hour ago.

"Stel!" Mac repeated, this time a little more urgency in his voice.

"Stella, it's me. Lindsay. Can we come in?" she said, knocking on the door.

And as she did so, the door creaked open, exposing big chunks of wood that had been ripped from the door frame.

Blood stained every possible surface. The floor was slick with reddish-brown flecks and the walls showed hand prints being dragged through the house.

Both CSI's gasped in unison and, Mac in front of Lindsay, ran into the flat, cautious not to trip in the piling pools of plasma.

Following the sick, mutilated map of events, Mac and Linsday found themselves being led into the bedroom, where the carpet oozed underfoot with the red slimy mess.

Catching sight of the king size bed in the centre of the room, the latter collapsed in horror, pulling out her cell phone to call an ambulance.

Mac, revved into action by his partner's disfigured body on the mattress, moved towards Stella in seemingly slow motion, his body not quite connected with his thoughts willing himself to go faster.

Finally at her side, tears spilled over his cheeks at his maimed friend and partner. There was a burning anger seeding itself deep in his gut, at the monster that could do such a thing to another human being.

She was wearing the beautiful dress that he had seen her wear only once before. It was a copper colour, matching her hair and emphasising her eyes. The anger that he felt flared up again, for the fabric had been cut in the most perverted of places, three perfect circles in the sea of material.

He averted his eyes to give her bare body the modesty it deserved, and instead focussed his attention to the skin visible through the dress's rips and tears.

Her legs were raked with scratches and blood oozed from every orifice. Her face was barely unrecognisable under all of the black bruises and inflamed skin cells.

If this image wasn't bad enough, Mac's eyes burned bright with fury, having caught sight of the bonds that chained her arms and legs to each of the four bedposts.

Blind rage taking over rational reason, Mac knelt beside her and felt for a pulse in her battered arm. Astonished, he could feel a sluggish beat beneath his fingertips, but his hopeful mood was instantly quashed at the thought of how much pain she would be suffering.

Quickly bending down, Mac touched his lips to hers, slowly exhaling and pushing air into her lungs. Finding a place in between the two crude cut-outs, Mac began CPR, willing her heart back into rhythmic action. Repeating the process, it pained him to feel how her lips were ripped and bruised.

He didn't know how long he sat there, trying to give her another chance for a better life, but he was shaken out of his reverie as Stella started screaming.


End file.
